


Sticks and Stones

by Epsy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Soulmate AU, Spoilers but happy ending, mentions of drug abuse (neither Hunk nor Lance)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 18:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15467391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epsy/pseuds/Epsy
Summary: Hunk starts a new year at the Garrison ready to start making a life for himself. The first person to walk into that new life is Lance.Hunk’s new best friend. Hunk’s soul mate. Hunk’s tragically platonic, “I’m straight bro, sorry” roommate.Hunk isn’t afraid of a little hardship, but this hurts in ways no one ever warned him about.





	Sticks and Stones

His dorm had bunk beds. 

They were stood against the wall, innocent and innocuous, stripped down to the mattresses. Absolutely nothing strange about them. Hunk let his bag fall to the floor with a hollow clank, and watched the furniture like it might eat him. Swallowing was suddenly the hardest thing in the world. Moving was unthinkable. 

The Garrison could have used use any type of bed. They certainly had the room for it out in the desert. But they’d used bunk beds.

It felt like his thigh was burning, but he knew that was just a trick of his mind. The words there –thick, black lines- were no doubt the same as they had been since he was born. 

I call top bunk 

So simple, and only four in total. Some people had names on them, addresses even, scrawled across their skin. Humans quickly got savvy about soul marks and tried to cut out the middleman sometimes, but Hunk liked the idea of meeting his perfect partner organically, and doing love the old-fashioned way. He always figured he'd speak from the heart and say whatever came to mind first. They were supposed to love him regardless, after all. But seeing the beds meant he knew exactly what was coming. And he already had a name, too; Lance Espinosa. The welcome email had said a boy his age, a pilot, even. It was impressive to be a pilot at the garrison. Way more impressive than a kid from Hawaii who liked to take old hover bikes apart for kicks. Hunk didn't know how to be cool in the traditional sense. He’d tried hard his whole life not to imagine meeting his soul mate in too much detail, and not to plan his response. But the best words to follow ‘I call top bunk’ were suddenly flinging themselves to the front of his mind. 

He stared at the bunk beds. The bunk beds stared back. 

Maybe these were the wrong beds. It wasn't like there was only one set of bunk beds in the world, after all. Just because he'd never found any back home didn't mean that the first set he ever got the chance to sleep in were The Bunkbeds, quest complete, game over. But his gut felt heavy and he could feel the clammy heat of his hands despite his brain's logic. 

He wasn't even twenty yet. Was he supposed to get married? How did it work? 

Why did it have to happen right when he was alone and so far away from anyone who could possibly help him? 

It was only when the campus bell outside rang that Hunk realised he had been staring at the beds for far too long. Dropping back into his own brain like he'd been floating up to the ceiling, he drew in a breath and turned away from the beds. He was going to unpack, and sort his shit out. And if (if was a good word; nice and open. Potential and continuity bound up in two little letters) someone turned up and matched whatever tumbled out of Hunk's mouth first, then they'd deal with that one minute at a time. Together, hopefully. 

Until then all he had to do was ignore the way all his organs had started climbing up his windpipe. No biggie. 

But no one came that first night. 

Hunk gave up around eleven and reluctantly made the beds. He took bottom, of course. He'd known his whole life that he would be happy to take the bottom bunk. He'd just kind of assumed the top bunk would have someone in it, too. 

Man, he wasn’t built to be this wired. Laid back and easy going was his All the worrying was starting to make him feel sick. 

After tossing and turning for too long to even guess at, Hunk finally threw back the covers and headed for the dorm mini-fridge hoping the taste of home would help him ground himself again. His grandma had sent him off with some kulolo. “For emergencies,” she had warned him. “And for nerves.” This, he was pretty sure, counted as an emergency.

The red brick sat in the centre of the fridge, carefully wrapped in cling film. Hunk pulled out a craft knife from his discarded work bag and cut a thin slice - pitiful compared to his usual chunks, but he had to ration it. 

Thick like fudge and sweet like caramel, it burst over his tongue and banished his toothpaste immediately. He closed the fridge but sat in front of it with his legs crossed, sucking the dessert from his teeth. 

He missed home. He knew that he would - everyone did. He also knew that he would be okay. But this would be a problem much easier to settle with his feet in warm, blue water. He would have asked Kahale about every soul mark story on the island, and he would have known them all. He could have told Hunk everything as he mixed smoothies in his downtrodden beachside cafe and Hunk would have found some sense, some pearl of wisdom in them somewhere. He missed the little support network he had back home so strongly that it made him kind of dizzy. 

Tomorrow. It had to be tomorrow. So far away and also too freaking close and always getting closer-

In the end, Hunk didn't find sleep until the first fingers of dawn plucked at the curtains, more excited and terrified than ever in equal measure.

\--

The morning came in like a freight train, and even though Hunk knew it was false advertising on his part, he cleaned. He cleaned the room. He cleaned himself. And when he spilled oil all over the floor, he started cleaning that too. 

It was while kneeling on the floorboards, elbow a grimy black and headband slipping down his face, that Hunk heard footsteps pounding down the corridor towards the open door. He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t even had that second shower, or put away his empty suitcase, or checked his...everything. 

Somewhat like a rabbit in the headlights, he turned as a brown blur skidded into the room. Lanky arms extended to smack either side of the doorframe, a face appeared, flushed with eyes bright. This was Lance Espinosa. This was Hunk’s future. 

“I call top bunk!” He declared breathlessly. Hunk paused, and oil dripped to the floor. Hunk hadn’t even had time to try to speak first. All the different responses he’d considered throughout his life suddenly went blank, wiped utterly from his brain like ketchup in a commercial for kitchen cleaner. The pause threatened to reach stage: awkward. Hunk forced his tongue to work. 

“I’ll arm wrestle you for it,” he managed, much more steadily than he would have expected. 

For a moment Lance’s eyes got wide, whites bright and lips parting just the tiniest amount. And then Hunk was fixed with the most viciously poisonous glare he’d ever experienced.

“Real fuckin’ funny. You don’t have to be an asshole right off the bat, y’know.” Lance’s arms dropped from the door and he tugged down his sleeves roughly. His eyes burned holes through Hunk’s whole soul. 

“I...what?”

“Ugh, fuck this.” 

And Lance turned. And Lance left. 

Hunk blinked.

“Wait! What I do? Come ba- oh.” Outside the door, a large group of people were making their way towards Hunk’s room. Lance’s family. Hunk narrowly avoided bowling them over, pulling back so they could pass. He couldn’t see Lance anywhere among them. One of the men hefting a cardboard box lifted an eyebrow and nodded down the hall in the opposite direction. Hunk waved his thanks and turned on his heel.

The only thing in that direction was the emergency staircase. Hunk took a chance and headed down instead of up, and thanked the laws of probability when he spotted Lance’s brown head through the opening in the fire escape door. 

Out on the cracked tile in the tiny amount of shade available, Lance was stood with his hands in his pockets. Sand was piled up in the corner behind him, and he looked more than uncomfortably warm in a jacket that he’d conjured out of nowhere. Hunk pushed open the door fully before he could chicken out.

“Oh. It’s you,” Lance said dryly, casting Hunk a withering look. 

“Yeah. It’s me. Look, if I did something rude then I’m sorry. But I don’t...like, back home an arm wrestle is just...friendly? We don’t have to actually-”

“Are you seriously gonna’ cover it up?” Lance stepped forwards with a violence in his shape. Hunk edged back.

“I don’t even know what I did, I figured you’d be expecting that, kind of-” Hunk was cut off when Lance seized his own sleeve and ripped it up his arm. 

“You’re trying to tell me you just happened to say my words, completely in order, and that you didn’t see this and decide to be a big comedian?” Lance thrust his arm into Hunk’s space, and Hunk could finally see where warm, earthy skin gave way to careful black script. 

I’ll arm wrestle you for it

Big enough to see. Big enough to read from a distance, if someone tried. Hunk finally connected the dots. 

“I’ve had this happen enough times to be wise to it by now, you know,” Lance continued lowly. 

Hunk gently pushed his arm away, and the sleeve was pulled back down. The last three words were still clearly visible along the bone of his thumb, though, damning in their simplicity. 

Hunk didn’t respond. Glad that he had worn shorts, he reached down and pulled up the right leg until the bold lettering of his own soul mark was clearly in sight. This wasn’t supposed to be how it went. They were supposed to be friends, at least, and be happy about it. Hunk didn’t want to think of everything Lance must have been through to react this way.

“That’s…” Lance began, staring hard. “Is that…?”

“It says ‘I call top bunk,’ so. You know. I really wasn’t playing a joke.”

Lance didn’t say anything else, so Hunk started to drop his shorts back down. He was quickly stopped by Lance’s hands. 

“No. No, I wanna’ read it.” Lance knelt. Hunk’s shorts were shoved high, and Lance’s fingers were cool and smooth in their brief contact with his skin. Lance made his full way around Hunk’s leg, reading silently but with his lips mouthing the words. “...Shit,” Lance said, voice soft.

“Yeah it’s...a lot, right?” Hunk shrugged, but then grinned. At least after this he would have someone who got what he was freaking out about. 

“Well, yeah. It is. But also- look, I’m not gay, dude. I’m not- I like...girls. Cute girls. Lots of girls, and boobs, and those skirts with the slits up the sides that show off their legs. Girl legs.” Lance dropped Hunk’s shorts like they were hot. Hunk felt everything in him crack down the middle, raw and blistering and so whiplash fast he hadn’t yet even processed that he was feeling pain. 

“That’s okay,” Hunk managed quietly. “It's not always...you know. Sometimes it’s-”

“Platonic? Okay. Yeah. Yeah, you're right. It's gotta’ be that.” Lance stood quickly and brushed at his knees. “I can work with that.”

Hunk was glad that one of them could. He swallowed and it went down like dead coral.

“I think your family were headed to our room.” Hunk’s voice was hollow. Lance didn't seem to notice.

“Oh. Yeah, there's a lot of them, huh? Let's go stop them from touching any of your stuff.” Lance headed for the fire door again, but turned when he curled his fingers round the handle. He looked back over his shoulder. “Sorry about all of this. Thanks for being cool about it. Um. What's your name, anyway?”

“You didn't read the emails?” Hunk managed to dredge up wan smile.

“Uh...emails?”

Hunk shook his head. “You're Lance. I'm Hunk, and I'm your roommate.”

“And my soulmate.”

“And your soulmate.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

\---

Lance’s family were loud, and gregarious, and Hunk loved them all immediately. He must have got about twelve kisses on each cheek before they all filed back out the way they'd come, taking the noise with them. His mouth was dry from talking. His brain was desperately trying to store all the new names (Camila with the loose tooth, Carlos with the only laugh quieter than fifty decibels) and forget all the stupid little excited thoughts he'd been having about meeting his One True Freakin Love before Lance locked that door forever.

But he wasn't going to get bitter. It wasn't like it was Lance’s fault. 

Lance clambered up the metal ladder, a mess of limbs, and flopped onto the top bunk. 

“I am beat.” Lance’s voice was muffled in his faded Star Wars sheets. “And starving.”

“Same. Hey, don’t we have a kitchen?” Hunk sat up sharply. How could he have forgotten? He should have gone there first instead of loitering in his room feeling apprehensive all night. His own kitchen - his own space. Shared, sure, but his still. 

“Yeah but it’s not like they stock it with food. I was just gonna’ go to the cafeteria. D’you think that’s closed? I kind of want a- where are you going?” Lance’s stream of words stopped. 

“We should go take a look, maybe find a store on campus. I can cook something.” Hunk shrugs, pocketing his keys. 

“Great idea! I still don’t know where anything is in this place. Hopefully they’ll have some instant noodles, because you put an egg with those in the microwave and it is the bomb.” Lance jumps down from the bed with a sloppy grace and grins. 

“You ever tried throwing in some fish sauce? Some chilli flakes, squeeze a lime in- I mean, man, if you pan fry some flank steak and stack that in there with an egg, it’s like a whole new dish. Takes longer but it’s worth it.” Hunk’s glazed eyes come back into focus, flicking from the wall where he was imagining food, to Lance’s look of quiet consideration. 

“You’re talking gourmet noodles.”

“Well, yeah. I only get three meals a day, and I’m not wasting one on something that tastes like ass.” Hunk scrunches up his nose. 

“Are you telling me I live with an actual person who can cook actual food?” Lance asks.

“If instant noodles get you this excited, my roasted shrimp risotto is gonna’ blow your mind.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Lance declares, slapping his palms together and raising them to the ceiling. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I swear I’ll do more of it if Hunk can make croquetas.”

“What, like a croquette? Easy peasy.”

“Fucking praise be. Come on, we’re going now. If I don’t eat something delicious soon I’m gonna die.”

For the whole trip across the garrison campus Lance named dishes, getting Hunk to outline what he could and couldn’t make. From cheeseburgers and pizzas, pasta and curry, to ridiculous notions of lobster and beef wellington, Lance’s requests spanned a world of cuisine.

Of course, when they reached the tiny garrison shop, they found themselves somewhat more limited. 

“Well, they have got instant noodles,” Lance said, hand on his chin and head tilted neatly. 

“I’ve been in gas stations with better ingredients than this,” Hunk admitted with a sigh. He turned to wipe frost off the top of a vintage-looking freezer bin. Inside was a selection of oven foods like fries and nuggets, but at the back he spotted packs of frozen vegetables. “I can do...stir fry. I’m pretty sure I packed enough seasoning to make it taste like something with substance. At the weekend I’ll head into town and stock up properly.”

Lance turned around with armfuls of snacks. 

“I’m good. You can share with me until then if the cafeteria sucks,” he offered with a crinkly shrug. 

“You’re a gentleman and a scholar.”

“I know.”

\--

The kitchen was all metal and bare legged tables. Without the oven unit and the lonely toaster, it could have been a morgue. 

But Hunk made do, and Lance complimented him so hard through the whole process that Hunk forgot how to use words for a while. He realised the Garrison could be home if they worked at it. It was easy to ignore the missing ocean and the apprehension about starting somewhere new when Lance was chatting animatedly with him. 

In the few hours they had been together, Hunk had decided that Lance’s ability to chatter about anything and everything was comforting. But Lance didn’t just talk. He listened when Hunk joined in, pausing to consider anything Hunk offered him. Being interesting enough to stop that endless flow, enough to drag Lance’s attention to Hunk, was a heady feeling like liquid gold inside him.

It was fast, the soulmate thing. Hunk was falling like a bag full of bowling balls...maybe he’d been falling his whole life, just with the the idea of Lance, not who Lance actually was. Until he grew to know Lance properly, Hunk was going to have to rein it in. No matter what destiny said. 

He could always end up hating Lance, he thought, throwing together a basic lunch in the bare Garrison kitchen. 

But that seemed like it would hurt.

\--

When Hunk finally dragged his feet back from workshop, five hours after every other class had ended and feeling on the brink of death, he heard a quiet sob through the door to their room. He paused. The only person it was likely to be inside was Lance, but he’d been fine when Hunk had left him that morning. 

He couldn’t guess if Lance would rather have company or deal with whatever it was alone, so he stayed motionless, staring down the door as he tried to work out what would make Lance happiest. Eventually it annoyed him that he had to second guess being by the side of the person who was supposed to complete him. He opened the door sharply. 

Inside was silent, and dark. Lance was already in bed, and it was like nothing at all was different. Hunk moved quietly to dump his stuff. He yanked off his uniform and shrugged his way into a ratty tee to sleep, and that was when he heard the noise again. It was muffled, clearly sobbed into the duvet. He sighed.

Climbing the ladder wasn’t the easiest in the dark, and he could feel the shake of Lance’s shoulders through the metal.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly. 

“I’m fine, so shut up and sleep,” came Lance’s thick-voiced reply. Hunk watched over the lump of him fondly. His brain worked through solutions to Lance’s sudden sadness.

“Hey,” Hunk started, “I had a really sucky day. Can I get a hug?” There was a pause as Lance considered it. They both knew the ruse for what it was, and Hunk held his breath waiting to see if Lance would take the hand being offered to him. 

“Come here, you idiot.” An arm shot out from under the duvet and dragged Hunk in. They had to crush tight in the small space of the fenced-in upper bunk, but that just meant that Hunk had more excuse to wrap arms around Lance’s slender frame. Lance buried his face in the mass of Hunk’s chest and clung like a monkey. “I guess you can stay up here for the night,” Lance mumbled into Hunk’s collar. “If you want.”

“Thanks, Lance.” Hunk smiled at the dark.

There was a moment of quiet, and then. “Thanks Hunk.”

\--

In the morning they didn't even bother to discuss it. The alarm blared and they moved in sleepy tandem to grab their uniforms and trudge to the communal bathrooms. And it was nice, Hunk thought, to start the day together. It was sweeter than getting up alone.

\--

Lance liked to cause trouble. He was loudmouthed and often rude, but erred just enough on the side of pitiful to never get in any real hot water. He said it was boyish charm. Hunk maintained it was a case of Bad Ideas (™).

But life was certainly more exciting with Lance. Sneaking snacks into the planetarium and setting it to the highest speed, watching it go from the Big Bang to the projected end of Earth, was probably going to be Hunk’s favourite memory for the foreseeable future. Holding their breath, chest to chest, as Iverson strolled past their library after-hours hiding spot, however, was definitely not.

Hunk could hear his own heart inside his skull. Lance’s hand was pressed to the centre of his chest, holding him against the wall as Lance mimed quiet with one finger to his lips. The library was still warm from a day in the desert sun. It was always warm at the Garrison, at least until night fell. But they were supposed to be in bed by then, like good, normal students. 

Eventually footsteps retreated and Hunk let out a breath of relief. 

“I can't believe you made me do this, it's such a dumb idea, and we’re gonna’ get dishonourable discharges-” he hissed.

“Chill, big guy, I got this. Do you want that book or not?” Lance tapped him with his knuckles. 

“I can get it tomorrow…”

“And you’ll lose a whole night of work. Plus however long it takes them to check this back into the system and reshelve it. When’s your project due?” 

“Two days.” Hunk caught Lance’s wrist and there was a flicker of blue eyes down to where they were connected. It passed without comment.

“So just grab it now. Whoever had it already returned it late. It's not like you can give them more of a fine.” Lance grinned and it was sharp, gleaming, just enough to take some of Hunk’s breath away. “C’mon dude, you don't deserve to lose time just because they couldn't be bothered to return it when they were supposed to.”

“...fine. But let’s be quick, man, I can’t get a demerit.”

“You’re gonna’ get a gold star when I’m done with you. Come on!” Lance pushed free, stepping out into the blue light of the emergency exit phosphorous strips. They painted him in shades of indigo. Hunk swallowed his fear and followed, trying to stay away from library windows. Curfew was ending, and his ears strained for the two plain beeps that would signal cadet lights out. 

He caught up with Lance a little late. On his knees by the reshelving unit, Lance was running a finger along book spines. He waved Hunk over when he finally arrived.

“They should have digital copies of this stuff. It’s like we’ve gone back in time,” Lance griped. 

“Because they don’t have digital copies, no one else will read them.. That’s what’s gonna’ give me the edge. If we don’t get caught.” Hunk wrung his hands nervously. 

“Hey,” Lance’s tone softened as he stood. He laid a hand gently over Hunk’s own. It looked tiny in comparison; all neat nails and slender fingers. “We have I ever steered you wrong? Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” 

That wasn’t a promise Lance could really keep, but Hunk still felt his heart expand wide like a party balloon. Lance’s palm was warm, and they were stood too close, and every eyelash was a dark flick of midnight against Lance’s cheek. Hunk fought hard to resist the urge to reach out, even as their almost-contact called to him. He knew this wasn’t one of their nights in the dark. The lights were off but the safety of the duvet and plausible deniability of the top bunk wasn’t there to keep this from being Too Real. 

“Yeah. I trust you.”

For a moment their gaze held, and Hunk stood a still as possible to keep from breaking the spell they were under. But then Lance’s eyes slipped past him, and his face lit up.

“There!” He reached over Hunk’s shoulder to pull a big volume free with the tacky, holographic cover of a book twenty years out of date. Bopping Hunk on the head with it, he handed it over. “Mission complete. C’mon, let’s go home.”

Lance grabbed Hunk’s sleeve and pulled, but before Hunk could follow properly, Lance was pushing him backwards again with a near-silent curse. For a moment Hunk has no idea what had Lance so riled, but then he heard the footsteps. Picking up speed, Hunk searched mid-panic and spotted a curtain. Before fully considering it, Hunk pulled the curtain open and hurried them both inside. 

It was a fishbowl window, like at the aquarium. Except outside was just desert and stars as far as the eye could see. Two floors up meant that the drop down was a heady experience, and when Lance groped for Hunk’s shoulder to ground himself, Hunk simultaneously preened and empathised. Making a decision, he climbed in and motioned for Lance to sit on his legs to hide their toes. 

Lance raised an eyebrow, and Hunk just shrugged back through the silence. As the footsteps drew closer, Lance finally stepped up and dropped into a half-squat on Hunk’s lap. Hunk’s skin prickled where they brushed without quite touching. Lance looked alive as he crouched, taut and ready for flight, and it made the solid thump of Hunk’s heart restart to a new beat. 

The bright circle of a flashlight passed over their spot briefly, and whoever was sweeping the library passed them by. They took their time, checking shelves and books left on tables. The tread was light; definitely not the steel-cap boots of any of the instructors. A really small security guard? Or were they not the only ones sneaking in for extra credit?

Lance’s hand and forearm against Hunk’s chest jolted him back to the present. Lance must have been starting to feel the strain of his awkward squat over Hunk’s legs. Judging that whoever else was raiding the library was too far away to hear them, Hunk reached out to pull Lance down properly before his legs gave. 

“Dude!” Lance protested.

“You were gonna’ fall.”

“Was not. I’m all muscle, baby!”

“Shh, I think they’re leaving.”

The door opened with a quiet squeak, and then there was a click and a beep as the locking mechanism kicked in. They both paused. 

“They locked it,” Hunk said weakly. 

“Minor blip. We can just hang out here until they’ve left for good, and then you can rewire the door. I know you read the manual.” Lance kicked back and placed his hands behind his head, getting comfortable against Hunk’s chest. 

“Well obviously I’ve read it, but that’s straight up illegal, Lance.”

“Our other option is to wait here until morning, hang around for the librarian, and then hand ourselves in.” Lance’s shoe squeaked against the glass as he crossed his ankles. He was warm against Hunk’s front.. “Check it out! Shooting star.”

“If she catches us, I’ll get a demerit and this project will be a bigger waste than if we’d never got the book to start with,” Hunk protested, but he was distracted by then by the play of childish wonder over Lance’s face. Blue eyes flicked back to Hunk, pinning him where he sat.

“Buddy, we’ve got this. I swear. Take a breath.”

Hunk took a breath. 

Lance settled back down and looked back out at the starry horizon. “Try to enjoy being a reckless teenager before it’s over. When are we ever gonna’ see a view like this again?” 

“I guess.”

“Good. Give it ten and we’ll get out of here.”

At first, his nerves were still clamouring. But the Earth kept turning and Hunk eventually found the tension unwinding under Lance’s body heat. It was pretty nice there in the library. The desert was painted blue outside, and even though the library was warm, the glass was cold against his skin. He thought, after a long stretch of silence, that Lance might have fallen asleep, but then Lance’s timid voice broke the spell. 

“I’ve been...thinking,” he said. The pause returned, and though Hunk tried to wait for Lance to continue on his own, eventually his curiosity got the best of him. 

“About what?”

“...About us. About...okay, so, I don’t really know what I am. I know I told you I was straight, and I do like girls. I love girls. Girls are… well they’re girls, man, they’re just great. And I never really looked at a guy and thought about him the same way. But then you came along, and I thought about it properly, right? And I looked at some guys, because I am a modern, open-minded individual.” Lance pauses for emphasis. Hunk clenches his fists. “I just thought...we don’t know, do we, if we don’t try it. I don’t mean get serious, or anything. But we could...I dunno, try kissing? And that way, I’d know for sure. We wouldn’t have to keep wondering.”

Hunk’s brain flatlined for a moment, and then surged back with a clamour. That was a stupid idea. A really pointless and cliched idea. And Hunk wanted to do it so badly.

“Won’t your future wife be mad?” Hunk asked, half joking. He knew how much value Lance put on things like that. But also he wanted to remind Lance of all the reasons he’d been putting Hunk off this long. Lance had seemed so certain, and it had only been that certainty that allowed Hunk to pretend being ‘friend’ soulmates was okay. 

Lance flustered next to him.

“That’s not...I don’t...look, can I just kiss you?” Lance stuttered. 

Hunk softened like ice cream in the sun. The regret he might feel after the deed wasn’t in his mind, and neither was the fear that after this exploration Lance might just go back to pretending Hunk was a talking teddy bear. 

“Okay,” Hunk said simply. It felt easy. Lance turned in his arms, and their shoes squeaked on the glass, and Lance fit perfectly down Hunk’s front like he always did. Lifting his hand, Hunk placed it against the warm shape of Lance’s face.

Inevitably Hunk lead, but he found himself hesitant under the pressure. If this was going to be Lance’s basis for giving him a chance, then it had to be good.

Hunk tilted them to make it smooth, and he closed his eyes to ignore Lance’s comically scrunched up face. 

“Relax. You don’t have to try hard for it to work.” He waited until some of the tension slipped from Lance’s form, and then finally leaned forward. 

In his mind, it was going to be something simple. Not far from the kinds of kiss his mother used to give him as a kid; affectionate and short. For a moment, it was like that, but just as Hunk was getting used to the soft, warm pressure of Lance’s lips against his own, Lance let out a determined huff. He pushed forwards like he’d never been afraid of anything his whole life, and wrapped long fingers around Hunk’s face. Suddenly Hunk’s head was tilted, and Lance’s lips were moving, and all the breath stole from Hunk’s lungs. He realised in an instant that this kiss was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

The few seconds Hunk had been expecting expanded into ten, then into twenty. Each moment that Lance didn’t pull away, the two of them melded closer until Hunk was warm and buzzing. He slid a hand down Lance’s spine and revelled in the slight lump of each vertebrae. His other hand stole to Lance’s thigh, but the moment he slid over blue denim, Lance pulled back with a sharp inhale. 

Breathless, they looked at each other for a while, processing. Lance’s eyes were glassy and his lips shone when they caught the moonlight. He licked them before he spoke.

“Well, that...uh. That was something,” he said quietly. In turn, Hunk quietly panicked. 

“Did you really hate it, or does that mean it was okay?” He asked, forcing himself not to wince. 

“What? No! I didn’t hate it! That was great.” Lance realised what he’d said and coughed gently into a fist. “I mean...nice. It was pretty good.”

Hunk could feel his face burning, and he turned to look out into the desert to disguise his grin. 

“Yeah, that was pretty good,” he agreed. “One more thing we have going for us.”

Hunk didn’t want to push Lance. He thought Lance was cute, and hilarious, and probably the most fun person to be around on the planet. They got along like they’d grown up together - two peas in a pod, and complemented each other in the best ways. But that didn’t mean Lance was his. If Lance believed he was destined for someone else, Hunk had to respect that. 

Still, he couldn’t resist pointing out just how well suited they were. Not when every time Lance smiled, Hunk’s heart dived right out of his chest. Not when he was stupid pretty in the moonlight. 

“I guess…” Lance trailed off. Maybe Hunk hadn’t done as great of a job as he thought. 

“No big deal. It’s a lot, finding who you are and what you want. You can take your time working out if you wanna’ switch teams or whatever.” Hunk tried to sound nonchalant, rubbing a finger over the glass of the window and trying to ignore Lance’s warm weight against him. 

“I’m not switching teams!” Lance says hurriedly. “I’m just...trying it out. On a one time basis.”

A one-time basis. That should have worried Hunk, but he found himself grinning instead. It made him feel special. 

“Sure, one time. Sounds good.”

There was a pause.

“But...Maybe one time isn’t enough to work it out. Maybe the, um. Like, I don’t have nerves, but maybe you do, and we have some janky energy because it’s the first time ever. Right? So maybe...a couple more tries. To make sure.” Lance refused to look at him. Hunk wished there was more light to be able to see the blush he was sure was there. 

“Well, if you want to make sure, how about we just...touch when it feels natural? You can try it again whenever you feel like it. I don’t mind.”

Lance seemed to consider this, shoulders dropping in half disappointment, half relief. Eventually, he nodded. “Okay. Come on, it’s time for you to break us out of here, you genius, you.”

So Hunk hacked the electronic lock with his lips still tingling, and when Lance grabbed his hand for them to run back to the dorms, Hunk gripped back just as tightly, and when Lance climbed into Hunk’s bed while Hunk was brushing his teeth, Hunk just smiled and climbed in next to him.


End file.
